


An Ardsmuir Man Found

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [50]
Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: Episode 4x05 Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 16:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16768519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: Prompt: Would love to see Marsali and Fergus finding Murtagh and bring him and the baby home to Jamie and Claire. The old and the new x





	An Ardsmuir Man Found

Fergus didn’t much care for working at the tavern, but it was too ideal for their current situation. He and Marsali were provided a room above stairs and the tavern was only a short walk from the seamstress who had hired Marsali for piecework. And working behind the bar meant it was easy for Fergus to see and listen to more than just the patrons who came through the door. He was able to make discreet inquiries among the vendors he bartered with for his employer, many of whom had knowledge of the region’s other employers and laborers—hired, indentured, and enslaved. 

Jamie had left him a list of men who had been at Ardsmuir with him and might be found still in the colonies, though a lot of the information on their whereabouts had come from Lesley and Hayes soon after their initial return to Scotland more than two years before. Fergus had successfully located all of two men from the twenty or so listed and one of them had been six feet underground. He’d found only a handful of potential settlers for the Ridge and he still harbored some doubts about them.

“Ye’re the one talkin’ yerself out of askin’ them,” Marsali scolded him when he’d voiced his fears to her. “They fit what ye were set out to seek and there’s nothin’ to say they’ll take ye up on the offer when ye do make it. Ye say they sound half daft but I say ye have to be a bit daft to want to do what they’re tryin’ to do wi’ settlin’ such a wilderness.”

“ _ We _ are daft,  _ mon amour _ ,” he corrected her, reaching to lay his hand over hers where it rested on her swollen belly. “

“Well, it’ll be less daft if there’s enough settlers there to work the land so we dinna starve,” she pressed. “What are ye waitin’ on? Pick one of the ones ye’ve found and give ‘em yer pitch. How many times have I heard yer tale of selling three casks of creme de menthe to a Scot?”

Fergus scrunched his nose. “It was Ian did the bargaining that time.”

Marsali rolled her eyes and leaned into his shoulder. “And who was it taught him how?”

Fergus’ mouth ticked up again. “ _ Moi _ .” He turned to kiss the top of her head. 

* * *

Despite the encouragement from Marsali, Fergus couldn’t make up his mind which of the men he’d found should be the first he approached with the offer. After taking care of receiving the morning’s deliveries, he offered to take some of the mending Marsali had completed to the seamstress. The child had begun to move within Marsali and, unfortunately for her, it was most active during the night, preventing her from sleeping well. He insisted she rest while he ran the simple errand and took advantage of the walk to mull over the decision that lay ahead.

Why was it so difficult to choose between the two men? Neither had families as of yet—nor were they likely to given their present financial circumstances. A home, some land, and greater distance from the taverns and brothels would improve their appeal to marriageable women and their families. One had greater experience with farm work but the other had a knack for carpentry and building. 

It truly did not matter which he approached first. The Ridge would need them both. 

He needed to stop back in at the tavern to be sure Marsali was well and that his employer would not require him for a few more hours and then he would head to the docks where both men were working in a warehouse. Whichever he encountered first, he would pull aside and make the offer to first. 

The tavern rarely had anyone stopping in before midday, so it startled him to see Marsali and a man seated at one of the tables. Marsali had been facing the door and from the change in her face when she saw him, she’d been waiting for his return. 

The man’s hunched back was to him but when Marsali started to get up, he turned to look over his shoulder at Fergus. 

“Fergus,” Marsali said, her smile as wide and bright as it could get. “Ye’ve a visitor. One of yer contacts kent he was at Ardsmuir and told him ye were lookin’ for folk as had been there. I think he’s the one ye’ve been waiting for.”

Fergus frowned briefly at Marsali before stepping toward the table to get a better look at the man seated. But the man rose and turned to face him. 

The man was grey and thin, with deep creases across his brow and nestled in the corners and angles of his face. He wasn’t as sturdy as he’d once been, the hunch to his spine down to more than just the fact he’d been sitting. He carried himself with the remembered confidence of the strong and capable and the look in his eye dared anyone to treat him as if he were otherwise. It was a familiar bearing and defiance that he’d never seen in anyone but Jamie and… 

“Murtagh?” Fergus muttered, disbelieving. 

The older man smiled. “I thought it might be you laddie,” he said with great satisfaction. “The man as takes the completed orders for delivery said there was some French man lookin’ for men as had been transported from Ardsmuir. He couldna say who nor why inquiries were bein’ made, only that the man was in Wilmington. So I came and made some inquiries of my own and heard the man went by Fraser.” Murtagh’s smile dimmed faintly and he turned toward Marsali. “The lassie here says she’s yer wife?”

Fergus jumped to attention and moved to Marsali’s side. “Yes. We have been wed near to a year. Marsali, I do not think you have met Monsieur Murtagh. He is Milord’s godfather. Murtagh, my wife Marsali MacKimmie Fraser.” 

“Ye look… Who’re yer people?” Murtagh asked, his brow furrowing. 

“My father was Simon MacKimmie—he passed many years ago now, soon after my sister Joanie was born,” Marsali explained as she leaned into Fergus’ side. “And my mother is Laoghaire Mackenzie MacKimmie.”

Murtagh couldn’t conceal the shadow of disgust that flitted across his face but he kept his tone conversational and polite as he said, “Aye. I kent yer mam as a lassie at Castle Leoch. She…”

“Aye,” Marsali muttered, exasperated. She hadn’t missed the Murtagh’s expression. 

“ _ Ma chére _ ,” Fergus crooned and rubbed her back. “She is your mother.”

“And I ken there’s bad blood betwixt her and Da and Claire… and it’s naught to do wi’ me,” Marsali replied with a sigh. 

“Claire?” Murtagh stepped forward, alert. “Did the lassie say,  _ Claire _ ?”

Fergus grinned. “That she did. Milady returned to Milord a year ago. She appeared one day at Milord’s printshop, like a miracle.”

“She came back and she found Jamie?” There were tears in Murtagh’s eyes. “And… where are they now?”

“They are here in North Carolina,” Fergus explained. “Milord has been given land in the wilderness to build and farm. We remain here until the bairn is born and Milord has asked me to find settlers to join him in clearing and working the land.” He chuckled. “It is why I am looking for the Ardsmuir men. Milord wishes to ask them first.”

Murtagh nodded, pride, joy, and relief relaxing some of the lines of his face and restoring some of the lost years. 

“You will of course accompany us,” Fergus insisted. “And if you know where others of the men from Ardsmuir may be found…”

“Aye, laddie,” Murtagh said, his voice catching so he had to cough to clear it. “Aye. I’ll help ye find them for Jamie.”

* * *

“I’m goin’ to go up the path to be sure they’re no lost,” Ian declared, whistling for Rollo and striding off impatiently.

Claire laughed as she continued planting in her garden. “I wish he’d taken Meyers up on his offer to go hunting,” she remarked. 

Jamie paused nearby and leaned against the handle of the shovel he was using to turn the earth for her. “I wish they’d sent word early enough I could ha’ gone to meet them at River Run and guide them the rest of the way. Or asked Meyers to do it. I fear they’ll have strayed some ways back or come to harm along the way. And wi’ a wee bairn…”

“They’re not alone,” Claire reminded him. “Fergus wrote they’re bringing the first of the Ardsmuir men with them. We should perhaps clear out the shed a bit in case they need to bed down there for a few days while mark their own plots and build their first shelters.”

“Uncle Jamie!” Ian cried with excitement, running up the path. Fergus appeared on a horse a few paces behind him, grinning. 

“Milord!” 

Jamie stabbed the shovel into the ground and hurried to greet Fergus while Claire slipped her seeds into the pocket of her apron and went to wash her hands in the bucket she was using for watering. 

By the time she joined them, Fergus had dismounted and was hugging Jamie. 

“Milady,” he smiled, turning to her in turn.

“How are Marsali and the baby?” she asked, kissing him on the cheek. 

“ _ Where _ are Marsali and the bairn?” Ian chimed in.

“They are not too far behind. The wagon is slower in the woods but that is a blessing for the rocking puts Germain  _ right _ to sleep,” Fergus remarked with pride. 

“Do ye want to see yer cabin now?” Ian pressed, already taking a few steps in that direction.

“Or perhaps we should show you to ours,” Claire suggested instead. “I can get you a drink and something to eat and then you and Marsali can explore the area together when you’ve both had a chance to rest a bit.”

“That sounds wonderful, Milady,” Fergus agreed. 

“Ian, lad… See to the horse,” Jamie instructed before leading the way and informing Fergus of the details of the outbuildings and why he’d arranged and built them in the way he did. 

They had only just reached the cabin when Clarence’s hawing, followed by Rollo’s barking, announced the wagon’s arrival. 

Fergus turned and ran to help Marsali down from the seat in front, the man driving the wagon keeping a steadying hand on the basket that sat between them and then carefully handing it down when Ian had taken the reins. 

Marsali reached into the basket and pulled out the sleeping bundle, nestling him against her shoulder as she met Claire and welcomed Jamie’s embrace. 

“I suppose you must ge Germain,” Claire cooed, peeking at the round cheeks and tightly closed eyes. 

“I’m goin’ to need to wake him and feed him soon,” Marsali remarked. “Otherwise he’ll fuss for hours and no sleep tonight.”

Jamie walked over to help with the horses and complete his host’s welcome but when he saw who stood before him, he froze. 

“Jamie lad,” Murtagh smiled. “It’s good to see ye again.”

“ _ Dia anns na nèamhan _ ,” Jamie murmured, haltingly stepping forward before throwing his arms around the older man.

“Told the lad no to write we’d found each other. Wanted to surprise ye.”

“Well ye have at that,” Jamie laughed as he pulled away and wiped the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Murtagh,” Claire greeted him warmly before embracing him as well. Jamie alone noticed Murtagh’s cheeks darken self-consciously as he returned the embrace. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

“Nor I you, lass,” Murtagh said quietly. “I prayed for ye. Every day. Didna think I’d ever see ye again wi’ my own eyes.” They pulled away but Murtagh held tight to her forearms, his voice dropping low. “The bairn?”

Claire’s face broke into a bright smile. “Brianna. She’s just like Jamie. I’ll tell you all about her later tonight. Ian, you don’t mind sleeping in the shed with Rollo do you? I think you should let Murtagh have your bed for the night.”

“As ye say Auntie,” Ian conceded, too excited by the new arrivals to bother feeling put out. 


End file.
